Sparkle

by Jerry Cole

  ***

  “I have an idea,” Sparkle said against Simon’s shoulder.

  “Hmm?”

  “Why don’t you be my shadow for a few days?”

  Simon grimaced.

  “Just hear me out. Your whole world is upside down, and you just buried your mom. Sometimes the best thing to do is take a step back, away from your life and get some perspective.”

  “And following you around will give me perspective?” Simon looked skeptical.

  “Following me around will give you a hell of a lot more than that,” Sparkle slid his hand up Simon’s thigh and tickled his balls gently.

  “What’s in it for you?”

  “I get to show off my brand new sexy boyfriend,” Sparkle purred.

  Simon stiffened. Was he ready to take their relationship public? To this point, they had been happy in their little cocoon of sex and wine and late night confessions. Was he ready to hold Sparkle’s hand and walk out in the light of day?

  “You don’t want to?” Sparkle said it like a question, but he already knew the answer.

  “It's not that. It's just a big step.”

  “You’re ashamed?” Again, he already knew the answer.

  “I’m not ashamed!” Simon roared, grabbing Sparkle’s shoulders and pushing him from his lap. Sparkle watched as Simon paced the room for a full minute.

  “Whatever happened to ‘there are no closets anymore’? It sure seems like you want to keep me in one.”

  “It’s not a closet. I have no problem telling people that I’m gay or even that I’m dating a guy named Sean—”

  “But being seen with a swishy queen is something else,” Sparkle completed.

  Simon stood still, putting his hands on his hips as he stared at the angry diva.

  “Do you know what people will do to people who stand out like you do?”

  “I have been me every day of my life. I’m well aware of the risks, thank you! But why don’t you tell the truth and shame the devil? What you’re really afraid of is not what people might do or say to me. You’re afraid of what people will say about you if you’re seen in public holding my hand.” Sparkle’s eyes were full of defiance and hurt.

  “Of course I am!”

  “And that’s a closet, Simon. And I won’t live in one for you. And if you loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to,” Sparkle said, emotion making his voice husky.

  The knock on the door made them both jump.

  “What it is?”

  “If you two are done with the massage table, I’ll take it down for you,” came Philip’s timid voice.

  “That’s okay. I’ll bring it down myself. I’m almost finished here,” Sparkle called through the door.

  “So that’s it?” Simon looked incredulous.

  “Oh hell no, you don’t get to get rid of me that easily. I’m not leaving you any choice. You and I are going to use the last few days of your leave to go out. You are going to meet my friends. You WILL enjoy it. And you WILL hold my hand and tell everybody in very sappy and embarrassing terms how much I mean to you. END OF!”

  “Yes sir!” Simon gave a mock salute, smiling despite being thoroughly told off by the sassy man in a fluffy towel.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What the hell is a street art tour?” Simon looked at the map with a dubious expression. Although it was easy enough to read, it was full of landmarks and notes never found on a conventional map. The psychedelic colors and kaleidoscope of fonts didn’t exactly inspire confidence in its practicality as a guide to “everything worth seeing.”

  “A walking street art tour is just what it sounds like. You drive all over this city, but have you ever taken a good look at the murals and installations all around you?” Sparkle had decided to dress down, trading his heels for ugly suede boots that looked like oven mitts gone wrong. Add to that a navy jacket that zipped up to the chin and his man-bun, and it was clear that this was going to be a labor intensive outing.

  “Call me conventional, but I think art belongs in a museum or a gallery and very occasionally on my wall.”

  “Dicks belong in vaginas, but you don’t seem to have a problem with breaking convention there.”

  “Touché. Lead the way.”

  The last of the Indian summer had passed them by, and the cool afternoons were upon them. Sparkle bought hot chocolate from street vendors, who all seemed to know him by name, and led Simon on a walking tour through the city. Simon was surprised to find himself lost several times, not recognizing the neighborhoods they were visiting, and rambling down alleys he had only ever zipped by on his way to somewhere “important”.

  Much of what Sparkle showed him looked amateurish and excessively bright at first. But as he marched along, it became clear that this was a side of the city that he had always been afraid to explore.

  The immigrant neighborhoods where the houses were painted lime green and fuchsia, the neighborhoods bordering the industrial district, with their murals that captured the heart of the city from the working man’s perspective. The art, like the artists and communities themselves, were rough and unconventional and beautiful.

  “Thank you for this,” Simon said, sipping his third hot chocolate for the day. They were standing on the bridge overlooking the water. The bridge itself was listed on the map as a work of art. Its underside was covered in work by graffiti artists that could be seen if you were walking on the footpaths along the canal. On the bridge, the ground was tiled in a mosaic style with millions of pieces of glass, stone and ceramics.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Don’t you have a show tonight?”

  “Not tonight. Tomorrow, I have to get back to work, though. It seems like my understudy isn’t carrying the crowds the way we had hoped.”

  “Taking time off from a successful show. Isn’t that risky?”

  “Yes. But, I’m ready for a change. Besides, I couldn’t let you bury the lovely Miss Victoria without me. What kind of ‘good wife’ would I be if I did that?” They both chuckled, recalling their last moments with the feisty old woman. Sparkle slipped his hand into Simon’s, and they stood like that, watching the lights from the city play on the water.

  “What kind of change were you hoping to make?” Simon tugged Sparkle along as they slowly made their way back home.

  “My next project is going to be less camp, more substance. I mean, I love the camp stuff. I do. But I want more,” Sparkle mused.

  “Less Sparkle, more Sean?” Simon commented as they rounded the corner and joined the bustling flow of traffic down the street. Several popular restaurants and bars were situated along this drag, making the air warmer and aromatic.

  “Exactly. I have some auditions coming up, and I’m having some new headshots taken with a new look. My manager is having kittens, but I think this is a good time to pivot.”

  “No time like the present,” Simon agreed wholeheartedly.

  Simon tugged on Sparkle’s arm, spinning him around into a warm embrace, and without any hesitation, kissed him. It was the perfect romantic movie moment. It only needed an iconic song from the 80s playing in the background to make it worth a ten-dollar movie ticket. And the kiss was magic. The lights seemed to fade around them as Simon held Sparkle and seduced him with a soft kiss.

  “Yes, bitch, yeah,” cried out a voice that made Sparkle groan into Simon’s mouth.

  “Maze!” Sparkle spun around and greeted the swaggering man with electric red hair.

  “I knew it was you just as soon as I saw those ugly boots.”

  “Don’t you start,” Sparkle warned, trying to bring the volume down on this exchange before the whole city block got involved.

  “Okay, I won’t. Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?”

  “No,” Sparkle stood firm, grasping Simon’s hand behind his back.

  “Why not? Are you two an item?”

  “We are. I’m Simon. Simon Burns,” Simon extended his hand to Maze over Sparkle’s shoulder. Sparkle rolled his
eyes and stepped to the side. There was no way out now; he might as well face the music.

  “Well, Simon, are you the one who has been keeping our star out of the limelight lately? Bootsy and Marcus have been asking about you,” Maze continued, ignoring the daggers that Sparkle shot at him.

  “That’s probably me. There was a tragedy in the family and Sparkle was kind enough to help me out.”

  “Oh, family can be such a chore. I’m almost happy that mine threw me out.”

  “They didn’t throw you out, you left.”

  “They gave me an ultimatum.”

  “Over a concert.”

  “It was my idol and the last night of the American leg of his world tour!”

  Simon choked back a chuckle as the two men bickered like siblings.

  “Why don’t we grab a table and have a little dinner?” Simon suggested.

  “Oh great, I know just the place,” Maze piped up, forgetting all about his argument. Wrapping his arm around one of Simon’s biceps, he dragged the unsuspecting victim to his favorite hole in the wall, Mama Lucia’s. It was the kind of place where the refills were free, and the calzones were “as big as your head.” It was also where broke artists and students went to split a pizza eight ways and fill up on cheap sodas and loud gossip.

  Sparkle rolled his eyes as they entered, Maze waving to the regulars while dangling off of Simon’s arm like a deranged mud flap. They grabbed the “good booth” in the back where the smell of chemical potpourri from the bathrooms and oil and cheese from the kitchen canceled each other out.

  Simon generously offered Maze and a table of his friends a pitcher of beer, earning him his first heap of brownie points with the motley crew. When he told the love waitress to refill the plastic pitcher and “keep ’em coming” he became a genuine Rockstar. The lure of seemingly endless pitchers of the watered down domestic beer brought every acquaintance and well-wisher to the table for a few minutes. (Long enough to fill a single plastic Dixie cup with beer without seeming rude.) Simon and Sparkle watched as Maze wheeled and dealed in local gossip, stoking speculation and sprinkling innuendo liberally.

  “So, to make a long story short, I stuck the whole bag of Skittles up my ass,” Maze guffawed for the delight of the dozen or so patrons gathered around the table to hear the end of his story. He had spent nearly the entire night on Simon’s arm, introducing him as “Sparkle’s new boo-thang” and making veiled threats to take him home as a souvenir. For his part, Simon held strong, being charming and downright affable with all the “lookie-lus” who came to chat. Sparkle’s initial annoyance gave way to a certain pride at Simon’s ability to hold his own in the company of people who inhabited the world that was so alien to him.

  “Hey Boo-thang,” Sparkle called out sweetly to Simon. “I need my beauty sleep. Take me home, now.”

  Simon excused himself after a thorough round of “we need to hang out sometimes” with everyone assembled. The couple escaped Mama Lucia’s, hand in hand, grinning like fools.

  “You were great in there,” Sparkle said.

  “I’m a businessman. The first thing I learned was how to read a room,” Simon replied.

  “Yeah, but I highly doubt that any of the boardrooms you’re used to feature pitchers of cheap beer and greasy slices of pizza.”

  “Seriously, how can you order a salad in a place like that?”

  “It had crispy chicken strips in it!” Sparkle defended his unconventional choice.

  “Those three emaciated strips of chicken were mostly bread. How can a grown man live like that?”

  “I should be asking you that question. Is there anything you won’t eat?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Simon grasped Sparkle’s slim waist roughly and kissed him so hard that it stole the breath right from his lungs.

  “Down boy. I have a request,” Sparkle said breathlessly.

  “Hmm?”

  “The Peabodie Gala, you are going this year, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “I want to go too. I’ve been dying to go for years but, as you can imagine, my name has never come up on the guest list. And other than a few caterers, I don’t know anybody who is going who will let me be their plus one,” Sparkle explained, with no small amount of acrimony in his voice. Jerrod had attended last year’s gala without him, and although he had since forgiven his best friend for his blunder, he was still galled by the missed photo op.

  “Aw, so I’m your last hope?”

  “Not really, you are my ONLY hope!”

  “Why do you want to go to that thing? It’s not your scene, and on a personal note, it’s boring as hell,” Simon confessed.

  “Because before my ass starts to sag, I want ’page one photo three’ of myself on the red carpet at the biggest social event in the city. It’s vain, and silly, and stupid, I know. But I still want to do it!” Sparkle stomped his foot as they approached the car.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Besides, now I have an added reason to go,” Sparkle added.

  “Which is?”

  “You handled my friends so well. I want to show you that I can handle yours as well. I know you’re afraid that I will turn up in a disco mirror ball gown and platform shoes, but I can handle myself in the thousand-dollars-per-plate club,” Sparkle argued, defiantly.

  “Well, then why wait until the Gala? The Civic Awards are coming up in a few weeks. We should go then. It’s a black-tie affair with a red carpet and photos on page three, just like you want. Consider it a dress rehearsal.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Sparkle let out a sound Simon had only ever heard come out of teenaged girls launched into a furious round of texting with multiple windows open at the same time. Simon chuckled, despite himself. He always regarded these events as a chore, a necessary part of doing business. For the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to the awards show. If the funeral were anything to go by, Sparkle would find a way to make it as colorful an event as humanly possible.

  As for the consequences? Well, consequences be damned.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Simon leaned against the sink and took a hard look at his face. Perhaps it was time for him to admit that he wasn’t as young as he pretended to be. The pain in his gut had gone from sporadic bouts of indigestion and diarrhea to a near constant ache.

  Sparkle had, of course, stepped in right away with an array of smoothies and juices to “cleanse” his innards and prevent heartburn and indigestion. It worked for a while. But it was about time to admit that this was no small problem. Something was wrong.

  Simon looked at his face. The face that had conquered a thousand beauties. He was lucky in the DNA department. His father had held up well, despite his drinking habit. Simon’s face was almost devoid of any lines or signs of aging, except for the laugh lines around his eyes. Sparkle said they made him look warm, instead of creepy. His body was still strong. Simon had taken care to counteract the loss of muscle most men experience as they get older with exercise and supplements. With Sparkle around, he couldn’t afford to let things like that slip.

  Sparkle. That man was at the center of all his fears these days. Simon watched the way other men’s eyes followed Sparkle as he walked down the street. His sultry eyes and strut turned heads effortlessly. If he wanted to, Sparkle could replace Simon with a flick of his wrist. Simon had already experienced that once and never wanted to feel that way again. Especially not with Sparkle. What they had made his fling with Damon look like a childhood crush.

  Simon still wasn’t sure that Sparkle wasn’t trying to kill him. But, if he was, Simon would welcome it. He was happy, for the first time in a long time, Simon felt like he had it all.

  “Hurry up in there, I still need to get ready,” Sparkle called from outside of the bathroom door.

  “Almost ready,” Simon said, shaking a handful of antacids out of the bottle and downing them quickly. Tonight was a big night. It was the big
night. The Civic Awards would be Sparkle’s first time “coming out” in society. It was also the first time Simon would have to face his circle of peers and be honest about who he was. With a man like Sparkle Jones on your arm, there was no way to deny that you were gay.

  “Good, because there is something I need to tell you and it’s probably better that you are on that side of the door when I do,” Sparkle confessed.

  “What?”

  “You know those guys, the ones who quit Taft a while back?”

  “Jerrod and Aaron.”

  “Yeah, well, I know them very well. They’re going to be at the awards tonight. I just thought you should be prepared.”

  “How well is very well?” Simon felt his stomach cramp with foreboding.

  “I grew up with Jerrod. I lived with him for a while after my mom put me out. And, I was…in love with him secretly for a few years. And Aaron is his boyfriend. I met him last year as well,” Sparkle explained, sounding hesitant.

  Simon shook his head. He knew the relationship between those two wasn’t as innocent and professional as they wanted other to believe. But, their connection to Sparkle was a genuine surprise. Simon opened the bathroom door and peeked out at Sparkle who was trying his best to act nonchalant.

  “And you are only now telling me all of this?”

  “In all fairness, I haven’t told Jerrod at all.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better? I didn’t even know that Jerrod was gay.”

  “Neither did he! Neither did I, and trust me if I knew I would have been all over him years ago,” Sparkle admitted.

  “So, what now?”

  “Well, they’re going to be there tonight. I told them that I’m going with my boyfriend and they are dying to meet you.”

  “Meet me?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Simon rubbed his stomach and closed the bathroom door again, reaching for the bottle of antacids.

  “I thought this was about you meeting my friends?” Simon shouted through the bathroom door, kicking back another hand full of tablets and gulping down water.